Kentucky Summer
by VoiDreamer
Summary: Three years can change a person, Tim knows that better than most. But when a woman from his past appears in Lexington it turns out that maybe the most important things stay the same. And though neither one of them expected to meet again, the sparks of attraction are burning all the hotter and it may be more than just the sunshine that's heating up this Kentucky Summer. Tim/OC
1. 01 - Settling In

AN: Hello all, It's my first foray into the wonderful world of Justified and while nervous I am also super excited!

I am completely addicted to the show - but I am admittedly really new to the series as well. If there are any errors please feel free to point them out so I can correct them and get better.

This is a sort of a tester chapter, to see if there's any interest so let me know what you think (I'm always up for mixing things up a bit).

And remember: I do not own any part of Justified or it's contents...

Thanks for reading!

~Voi

* * *

"Well that's the last of it!"

Valentine eased herself into the couch with a sigh, hands falling limply at her sides as she leaned back in pleasure, "All moved in, thank goodness."

It had been a crazy few months.

Looking around, Valentine struggled to hold on to the pleasant ache of her muscles, forced herself to avoid recalling the memories that would have her muscles tensing in panicked anticipation. It would have been all too easy to fall back into the panic, the fear.

She had spent nearly a year in Witness Protection before she had been called to testify before a court in Portland. One year of being pregnant and terrified, another year spent afterwards trying to forget she had ever lived through that awful crime and the trial that followed. Justice had been served, but the scars, both physical and otherwise, would remain for much longer.

She had done her best in the last six months since moving to Lexington to return to the woman she had once been. It hadn't quite worked, but she was happier now, steadier, than she had been in a long while.

And though some months were better than other, at least for now, life had returned to normal. Valentine would never again take such a small thing for granted, not when there was so much she had to live for.

Getting to her feet with a heavy groan, the young woman stepped over play-blocks and soft knit dolls on her way to the well-lit alcove where her daughter was currently playing, engrossed in a game of what looked like hide-the-dolly-under-the-teacups.

Curly hair and winsome smile, Sophie-Ann was everyone's darling, and the center of Valentine's entire world. The only spot of happiness in what had been a bleak two years in hiding; it was a blessing that her baby showed none of the unhappy emotions that had plagued her mother for so long.

"You having fun, sweetie?"

Kneeling down so that she could look at Sophie's sweet round face, Valentine smiled before pressing a kiss to the top of her daughter's head, "Hmm, my little Peach? Are you playing with your dolls?"

A melodic little giggle was her answer, followed by the soft smacking sound of kisses as Sophie sent her little present through the air.

"I caught them!"

Closing her hand around the invisible but still very real baby-kisses, Valentine grinned all the wider as she picked up her daughter and gently cuddled her. Every day Sophie was getting bigger, but she still had that sweet baby smell, and Valentine inhaled deeply as she held her daughter close.

"What a smart girl you are." Cooing high praise and peppering the little girl with enough baby-size kisses to elicit yet another giggle, they were on their way to the kitchen when the doorbell chimed.

Settling her daughter on her hip, Valentine had nearly made it to the door when she thought better of it. Depositing the little girl into the large play-pen that stood just beyond the living room entry, Valentine made sure her daughter was settled with her favorite Bo-peep doll before she turned back to the door, arriving just in time to hear the muffled voice from the other side.

"Val, it's me Leslie!"

Valentine had the door open a moment later, fingers dancing across the three locks as she swung the door open.

"Leslie!"

The woman's presence was a welcome one, and one Valentine had come to rely on quite heavily since their arrival in Lexington. An accomplished wife of an equally successful US Marshal, Leslie Mullen was a formidable woman, and the staunchest supporter Valentine had ever had.

A one-woman cleaning machine and all-round domestic goddess, Leslie had taken one look at Valentine's rather sad predicament and had set about getting both mother and child comfortable in their new home.

Valentine was not sure she would ever be able to repay the weeks of food Leslie supplied her, or the time she spent looking after Sophie while Valentine looked for a job. But while she certainly meant to do so, and said as much, Leslie would not hear of it.

At least until now.

"How is my favorite mother-daughter pair doing?" Leslie's smile was as bright as the Kentucky sun, as she wrapped her arms around the young woman, "You're looking well."

Valentine returned the gesture with equal warmth, "We actually just finished unpacking the last box, so we are officially all moved in."

"Oh I see," Eyes sparkling, the older woman brushed her blond hair behind an ear and looked around, "I take it your little darling did all of the hard work."

Leslie gestured to the new bookshelves and table that Valentine had put together herself. Both items had been chosen for their inoffensive design and inexpensive nature, but Valentine knew it would take more than a few pieces of furniture to turn a house into a home.

"Oh you know Sophie is all about getting her hands on power tools." Valentine replied with a small smile as she invited her guest in. Passing by the play-pen, both women stopped as Sophie began to babble, loudly.

"I do believe she knows we're talking about her." Leslie sounded absolutely thrilled with the idea, and Valentine was quick to feel the same.

"Smart little Peach," she cooed at her baby as she lifted the baby out and then offered her to the always-willing Leslie. Leading the two into the kitchen, Valentine paused as she pulled a tall glass from her shelf.

"Would you like some coffee, Leslie? Or maybe iced tea?"

It said a lot that she offered the woman coffee in the middle of the day, marked her as a native to the West Coast if just because the people there had coffee instead of blood in their veins. Even now Valentine couldn't quite bring herself to break the habit, though tea was quickly becoming one of her dietary staples as well.

"I'll have some tea, dear."

The older woman settled at the modest breakfast bar with the baby on her lap. And as her mother went about pouring drinks, Sophie-Ann did her best to entertain with all manner of talking and giggling. Indeed, the little girl did such a good job, that it was well after the drinks were finished that Leslie remembered why she had come over in the first place. To say that her young neighbor was merely surprised would have been to ignore the hundred small details that only the wife of Lexington's Marshal Chief could have picked up on.

Hesitation, wariness made the younger woman pale with such swiftness that Leslie wondered if she might faint.

"Now, I know crowds make you nervous dear, but this would be just a small gathering of friends and neighbors."

Valentine remained silent but when she seemed to regain a little of her lost color, Leslie pressed on, "You would know several of them at least, and the Hoopers are coming with their little boy too, so Sophie wouldn't be alone."

She tried to appeal to the maternal instinct she knew the younger woman had in spades, tried to cajole and tempt the mother into a night of relaxation, of reprieve. It was something she suspected the poor woman had not had in quite some time. Valentine had been very cautious with what she shared, and it had taken Leslie's over protective husband to finally break the news.

Art had run a background check on her within the first week of her arrival, and what he had found had surprised them all.

Taking a good look at the chubby baby in her arms, the older woman felt her chest ache for them both. Truly some people had very bad luck thrust upon them.

But Valentine and Sophie were under her protection now, and she would be damned if she didn't do everything she could to show them that Lexington was a place they could call home. It was full of kind people, caring people. And, Leslie's lips curled into a smile, Lexington was full of people who knew how to shoot the bad guys.

The city was home to a group of Marshals that she knew well, men and women who she could count on. Leslie wasn't above mentioning that all of her husband's friends were, by virtue of his job, all US Marshals as well, but she was saving that as her trump card. She hardly wanted to force the young mother to take a break, but she would if she really had to.

However, Valentine proved to be amenable to the idea after another long moment of silent deliberation.

"I can bring Sophie along?"

She echoed as she rinsed the glasses, and turned back to where the older woman was still entertaining her daughter. Joining Leslie for a night among friends sounded heavenly, and Valentine knew she would be a fool to turn her friend down. But there still lingered that insecurity, the fear of coming under fire when so much was finally going right.

For a moment the anxiety was all consuming, like a great wave crashing over her and threatening to swallow her whole. But then she breathed, inhaled deeply and looked at her daughter. _She _deserved a normal life, they _both _did.

And so, mustering all the courage she could, Valentine nodded.

Sophie seemed to share her same mindset and her ensuing tinkle of laughter was answer enough. Eyes twinkling, Leslie kissed Sophie's fawn colored curls before handing her back to her doting mother.

"I'll see you both tomorrow at two, dearie."

* * *

The day of the party dawned with a perfection that only Leslie could have planned. Windows and sliding doors were opened to make the most of the smooth breeze, but the sun was pleasant in its warmth. Merciful for an early Kentucky summer, it warmed rather than burned.

Leaning half out the kitchen window where she had spent most of the morning, Leslie Mullen dusted her hands off her well-floured apron before waving at the guests that had started to arrive.

And though she was busy cooking three kinds of pies and putting the finishing touches on half a dozen other dishes, she took the time to yell for Art to mind the coolers and make sure the beer was well and truly chilled for their guests.

"Well, I guess that explains why Art is so good at bossing us around, setting a proper example of things here at home, Les?"

A hat, long since made familiar to the Mullen kitchen swung into view a moment later, and from beneath its wide brim, the roguish Marshal from Harlan greeted his hostess with a polite nod of his head.

"Afternoon, Ma'am."

Grinning, Leslie patted the boy's cheek as he bent over to give her a hug. She swatted him a second later as he tried to steal a bite of her fried chicken, "You behave yourself, Raylan Givens; I'm too old to fall for your antics."

"But not too old to marry me," Raylan responded with a mournful look towards the tray of freshly fried drumsticks, "Why don't you leave Art and come cook for me?"

"In your motel?" Leslie challenged as she raised her brow, exaggerated her point with a spatula that gestured to the industrial friar she had had installed last year, "Even _I _have standards young man. You just wouldn't be able to afford me."

Raylan's smile grew all the wider as he turned towards the window, "And speaking of things I can't afford…"

Leslie followed his gaze, and found herself watching an attractive if somewhat aloof young man enter through her garden gate. Dark blond hair and a face that was at once both boyish and masculine, Tim Gutterson could have been the most popular man in Lexington if he was not so very self-contained. Hands tucked into his pockets, the young Marshal seemed almost lost but made his way to the beer cooler eventually.

"You managed to convince Marshal Gutterson to stop by?"

Leslie was pleased at the new arrival, and she didn't mind offering a chicken wing to Raylan as just reward. The man snatched it up before she could change her mind.

"I told him there was free beer and pretty girls." The Harlan native paused before tearing into his prize, "I also bet him fifty dollars that he wouldn't show. Not sure which one made the better case, but here he is."

And though he was not nearly done with his chicken, Raylan set his piece down and made for the door. Disappearing with a quick wave, Raylan appeared not a moment later carrying a very generous serving contained piled high with potato salad. Behind him trailed an anxious looking Valentine and an ecstatic Sophie-Ann.

"Good gracious girl, I told you not to bring anything!"

Smiling widely, Leslie noted that both had dressed up for the occasion and that while Sophie looked lovely in her robin-blue frock, it was her mother who had made a most startling transformation. Gone was the well-worn jeans and too-large sweatshirt, instead Valentine looked sweetly soft in a pair of jean shorts and a loose linen shirt. But so too did it emphasize how very young she was, and Leslie felt a pang of sympathy as she went to give both mother and baby a hug.

"I am so glad you were able to make it!"

Then, going over to take a look at the food Leslie smiled appreciatively, "It looks lovely."

"And big enough to feed the whole city of Lexington." Raylan grinned as he tipped his hat at both mother and daughter, "Pleasure to meet you, my name is Raylan Givens."

And Leslie watched as the Marshal worked his charms, thankful just this once that Raylan had the natural instincts to put her new guest at ease.

"Nice to meet you," A smile, hesitant but genuine made its way on Valentine's face, "I'm Valentine, this here is Sophie-Ann."

But instead of her usually bubbly collection of sounds, of giggles and high-pitched baby chirps, Valentine found her daughter suddenly very quiet. Big blue eyes wide and unblinking, Sophie seemed completely entranced by the Marshal, rooted to her spot.

"Oh my!" Leslie laughed as both women grinned at the suddenly quiet baby, "I think Sophie has a crush on you, Raylan. I've never seen her so quiet."

"You ok, Sophie?" Amusement colored Valentine's voice, had her gently smoothing the little head of hair she tried to get her daughter's attention.

But instead of answering, Sophie took off, little legs suddenly in motion as she propelled herself from the kitchen, disappearing on a string of laughter.

"Oh! Pardon me!"

Valentine vanished from the kitchen in the next second, taking after her spirited daughter.

"Sophie!"

"She's a nice girl." Raylan said after a long minute, watching as she chased her daughter through the yard.

"One of the sweetest I've ever met." Leslie agreed, "A tad shy though."

The Marshal snorted, "Yeah, I got that Les."

"Think you could keep an eye out for her whenever you're in the area?"

"I can try," Raylan sighed with mock pain, "Art doesn't exactly give me the easy jobs."

Leslie didn't give an inch, though her eyes sparkled in amusement, "He does. You're just a walking disaster. You attract trouble like a magnet."

"You wound me, Les. I think you hurt my man-feelings."

Valentine had meant to be a good house guest, but running after her energetic two year old meant very little in the way of being dignified. Her baby was far faster now that she had a large house and yard to play in, and had the unique advantage of her height, allowing her to weave around tables and people alike.

"Sophie!"

Screeching in laughter, the little girl only toddled on faster, eyes sparkling, hair swinging around as she crossed from the house to back deck. Oblivious to all else but the thrill of the chase, her daughter never saw the steps from porch to yard.

"Sophie!"

Heart in her throat, Valentine tried to catch up as her mind went terrifyingly blank of everything but her daughter. One more step and…

A pair of hands caught her daughter before she could tumble down the steps, "Easy going there, kiddo."

His drawl was easily made out as he gently chastised her daughter, "What's a little thing like you doing out here by yourself? It's dangerous."

It was hard to make out what he looked like what with his back turned towards her, but Sophie seemed to find him as entrancing as she had Marshal Givens. Eyes fixed on her daughter, Valentine swallowed down her mortification and the fear that made her heart pound in her ears.

"I am _so_ sorry."

She stopped just behind him, shielding her eyes from the sun as he turned around, little Sophie sitting pretty in his arms.

"No harm done."

The helpful stranger passed her daughter into her waiting arms, had only just begun to pull away when they both froze in realization.

Blond-brown hair, dark blue eyes, she had seen those features every day she had looked at her daughter's sweet face, but as she looked up at this man, she felt her brain spark in recognition.

She had never thought she would see him again.

"Val?" His eyes widened as he recognized her in turn, "What are you doing here?"

And though she knew this man had hurt her, had _abandoned _her, she couldn't help the small smile on her lips as he shared her mutual surprise.

"Hi Tim, it's been a while."


	2. 02 - Meeting Up

AN: Hello there! I got some really wonderful feedback/encouragement with the last chapter so I'm going to go ahead and see what I can do with turning this into a longer fic.

Your concerns about Tim 'abandoning' Valentine will be revealed in good time, but I love the response it drew and really made me think about the characters.

As always, feel free to send me helpful hints if you feel I can be writing this better, or send me fun reviews to tell me what you think!

Thanks for reading!

~Voi

* * *

There were moments in every man's life that bent to coincidence; times when it seemed fate conspired to shake a man from whatever belief he had in his ability to control his life.

Tim Gutterson had long since made his peace with such shifting fortunes. A tour in Afghanistan had pushed him to accept that life was too damn short and it didn't pay to wonder why it was you who survived when the better guy lay dead by the roadside. Coming back to Lexington had done nothing but reinforce this belief, and Tim had spent many a morning wondering how it was that Raylan Givens continued to find himself knee deep in all the shit Harlan had to offer. It didn't matter that _he _did what he was told, the older Marshal was forever dragging him along, carried along in that bumpy wake that passed for 'backup.'

But as Tim stared down at the letter in his hand, tried to make sense of it for what felt like the hundredth time, he wondered what he had done to get so royally screwed over.

He had been having a hard time concentrating since the party, since reality had given him the proverbial finger and dumped him at the feet of the one woman he had never expected to see again. Valentine Reed may be Lexington's newest resident, but she had been one of Seattle's up-and-coming writers when they had first met. Tim couldn't say he had ever truly forgotten her.

"Don't tell me you forgot how to read?"

Raylan's snarky comment would have been good for any other morning, but this was not like most, and Tim damn near bit off the other man's head before he was interrupted by Art.

"Gutterson, my office."

No more, no less, Art's direct order was one Tim appreciated, felt comfortable carrying out; and with hardly a look at either Raylan or the paperwork, he sauntered quietly into the Chief's office. It seemed prudent to close the door, and so he did that too.

"I understand you received a rather nasty shock yesterday." The Chief spoke gruffly, hands laced beneath his chin, as he took the measure of the young Marshal, "Something about a woman?"

Tim blinked but otherwise didn't move, "You were there Art."

"Yeah, and between the looks you and that girl were passing, I can't say I understood any of it."

Art smiled, "Besides, my Leslie has worrying since yesterday and I don't like listening to the woman fret. She looks after the little girl during the week while the mother works, and I'll get an earful if you don't do something."

Both men knew Art would never push the issue, that it was a suggestion nothing more. But Tim knew he had to deal with whatever had left him a stupor for the better part of twenty-four hours.

Pushing a nondescript file across his desk, the Deputy Chief gave the paper a careful nod but again chose to say nothing.

"Take the rest of the day to sort things out, Tim."

The younger man muttered noncommittally before grabbing the file and opening the office door. It went against the grain to take a day off when the office was busy, but they both knew his head wasn't in it.

"I'll see you sometime after Tuesday, Art."

Tim promised as he left, moving to retrieve his car keys and other minor possessions from his desk. He wasn't a particularly messy person so it was all too easy to grab his things and head for the door.

It was much harder not to head straight for the bar and spend the rest of the day there, throwing back bourbon until the world swam and felt a little easier to manage. Tim had done that more than once over the course of his career in Lexington and the bartender was finally figuring out that he wasn't much for chit chat while he enjoyed his drink.

But as he passed the last desk, Raylan Givens seemed to know exactly what was on his mind.

"Going to get me a drink, Gutterson?" There's a sort of arrogance in the man's lazy smile that had Tim scowling, pausing just inside the office.

"Only if you're paying for mine too, Givens."

"Ah coffee it is then," The older Marshal grabbed his hat and followed Tim out, "Come on sunshine, let's get a smile on that face."

The first long drink from the black, unsweetened coffee made his eyes water.

"_Shit_ that's strong."

Raylan sputtered as he made a grab for the cream, dumping nearly half the contents of its contents on the table as his other hand tried to tear open several packets of sugar.

Snorting in amusement, Tim took a sip of his own coffee leaning back in his seat. As far as coffee went, the diner was only barely passable, but Tim couldn't complain. It served its purpose, and for that he was grateful.

"How's _your _coffee?"

Raylan's sullen comment drew his attention from coffee mug to drinking companion.

"I am smiling now, aren't I?" Tim deadpanned as he took a _long _drink from his plain, unsweetened, coffee, and smiled sardonically. "My favorite."

"Laugh it up, Gutterson."

"I am. This is my laughing face, can't you tell?"

The older marshal sighed, "You want to tell me what's going on?" Raylan asked, adjusting the position of his hat as he leaned back in the diner's wide settee.

Tim fought the urge to just up and leave.

He didn't do touchy feely, and neither did Raylan. Which meant that at least on some level Raylan had to be asking the questions for someone else. Someone who _was _touchy feely.

He closed his eyes and tried not to laugh as he figured it out.

It figured Art's wife would be behind all of this madness. Who else would be able to put up with Art and get Raylan do something so out of character? The woman must be in the CIA or whatever other clandestine service bothered to work in Kentucky.

"Earth to Tim, you still here?"

"Yeah." Tim croaked slightly, rubbing his hand against the side of his face as he sighed, "I could really use a bourbon."

"I'm sure we both could, but I'm on the clock."

"You usually drink on the job," Tim pointed out, "You're just saying that because you're dead broke after giving me that fifty on Saturday."

Raylan smiled, "And sometimes I worry you don't pay attention."

"Yeah well…"

"Tell me about Valentine and Sophie."

"I don't know anything about Sophie." Tim warned his drinking companion.

Raylan nodded gamely as he took another shuddering sip of his coffee, "Then tell me about Valentine."

He waited until all of the children had left for the day before he knocked on the door, pushing it slowly at her muffled invitation to enter.

The room itself was a shrine to public education, brightly colored walls stood pasted over with all manner of art projects, charts and inspirational posters. The table and chairs scarcely came any higher than his knees, and everything was replicated in perfect miniature for the children who were just starting their academic careers.

Pillows and small couches dominated a corner of the room that was labeled 'Reading Room,' a sunny haven of literature, it was here that Tim found her. Bent over as she straightened the much loved children's bookshelf, she seemed completely oblivious to him as she worked, her lips moving silently as she talked to herself, mentally sorted through her thoughts.

She looked good, he thought as he settled against her desk, better than good really. Dressed as she was in that soft looking skirt and blouse, the outfit might have been conservative on some, but with a body built like Valentines…his mind was quick to supply the appropriate memories, and he swallowed hard as she leaned just a little bit lower. She looked like one of those pinup girls that the men on base had plastered to their walls.

Tim didn't bother checking himself as he watched her, arms crossed, head cocked ever so slightly to the side. She had always been a luxurious sort of woman, not particularly tall, but rich in those tempting curves and dips that had driven him to distraction when first they met. Pregnancy had only made her curvy figure more generous and damn if that didn't turn him on despite the strangeness at seeing her after so many years.

The attraction had been there the first time they had met, and it seemed time had done nothing to diminish it. Seeing her at the party with her daughter had only made Tim jealous of the bastard that had gotten to have a baby with her. Jealous and angry as hell since the man clearly hadn't bothered doing the right thing. He had noticed from the first that there was no ring on her finger.

"Hello, Val."

"Oh!" She wheeled around, face pale as her hands tightened reflexively on the book she had been putting away, "Tim, you frightened me."

There was something in the way she said it, the way her breathing had suddenly elevated and eyes darter around that made him pause. And though it had been years, every protective and possessive instinct in him roared to life.

"Have you had a lot of reasons to be frightened lately, Val?"

He observed her reaction to his words, could see the very real effort it took to calm herself, and felt his stomach clench in anger as she lied to him.

"Nothing more than can be expected. Why do you ask?"

She couldn't quite make eye contact as she fibbed, seemed more interested in the post just over his shoulder than looking straight at him. It was a good thing she didn't see his dark scowl as he pushed off the desk to approach her.

"You make a habit of lying, Val?"

He can tell he's making her flustered, can see it in the way her big brown eyes grow wider as he takes a few steps closer, in the way her cheeks flush.

"A habit?" Her voice comes out as a whisper, "No. But we don't know each other as well as we used to Tim, I don't know if I can trust you."

He nods, accepting her answer though he does not like it. He asked for the truth and she gave it.

"It had been a while, hasn't it? Three years? "

"Two years ten months." Her response is automatic as she glances at something on her desk before looking up at him with a sad little smile, "It's seemed longer."

He looks at her curiously but says only, "Yeah, I know what you mean."

They lapse into an uneasy silence before Valentine gently prods, "Tim, what _are _you doing here?"

"I came to see you, thought maybe I'd say hello since it's uh… been so long."

His words make her smile ever so slightly, and she seems to consider him for a long moment before asking, "Would you like to go for coffee sometime, Tim? To catch up?"

Tim opens his mouth, "Coffee sounds-"

"Hey Val, you still coming or…ooh… well hello there handsome."

The speaker is a petite woman with long dark hair and even darker eyes. Dressed in a short dress that clearly indicates she's done with the work day, she seems all too amused by what she finds.

"Am I interrupting something, Val?"

There's a wicked smile on her face as she eyes both man and teacher with a raised eyebrow, "Unless you're going to make introductions?"

Behind him, Valentine chuckles and the sound sends a jolt of awareness through him, makes him shift his stance ever so slightly.

"Jackie, this is Tim, I know him from back home. Tim, this is one of my co-workers, Jackie Wang."

Wearing the highest pair of platform sandals Tim has ever seen in his life, the shorter woman crosses the room with startling ease, her small hand extended, "Pleasure to meet you handsome."

Her words make him smile but don't quite attract him the way her Valentine does.

He eyes the many rings on the offered hand as he shakes it, noting the manicured nails and sultry makeup. Jackie looks like she's ready for a night on the town.

"You two celebrating something?" He asks as he turns to look at Valentine who looks the very epitome of sweetness as she turns to grab the light cardigan she has hanging off the reading couch. The differences in their two looks are enough to leave him confused.

"It's the last day of school for the academic year; we just started our two month summer vacation." Valentine answers with a wry smile, "Jackie and I are going out to enjoy the evening."

"But as you can tell, we differ a little in how we define 'celebrate.'" The shorter woman added with an ironic smile.

Tim nods then, realizing he had interrupted them on their way out. Pushing his hands in his pockets, he is almost to the door when Valentine calls his name.

"Tim?"

He turns to find her within arm's reach, so close he can practically smell the perfume she put on that morning. And she smells the same way she did those many years ago, clean mint with the hint of lemon soap.

"Did you still want to do coffee sometime?" She looks anxious again and he can't tell if it's him that's making her nervous or if time really has made her into this person he doesn't quite know.

"I'll pick you up after work sometime?" He asks, though instinct tells him she'll refuse the offer. She may have accepted his help once upon a time, but this version of Valentine Reed is still, in many ways, an enigma.

She shakes her head as she refuses, but the smile on her lips softens the rejection, "I have a car and can drive myself, but let's say we meet up a Thalia's Café on Wednesday?"

They agree on a time in short order, and she walks him the rest of the way to her room door, lingering when he turns to say goodbye one last time.

"It was good seeing you." She says after a long pause, her smile a little sad.

And he nods silently, considering her expression and the bubble of something that feels like anger and helplessness in his chest.

"You too, Valentine."


	3. 03 - Chatting Away

AN: So here's a smaller bit of teaser chapter, there is this one and another small one that lead up to the big coffee date and I wanted to use them to frame the event moving forward. Look for the other one sometime this weekend!

Thanks again for all your great comments! You've been super!

~Voi

* * *

"Damn, Missy. Where have you been hiding that one?" Jackie's words were followed by a low whistle.

Tim had only just stepped out, and both women were still following him with their eyes, Valentine most of all, feeling like a love sick teenager all over again. And that tightness in her chest, the strange mix of longing and pain, had her worried. She had hoped seeing him again would be a onetime occurrence, had thought, perhaps childishly, that if she made no move to find him he would kindly do the same.

Clearly she had thought wrong.

Her skin still felt like it was vibrating, humming from his attention, the intensity of his gaze.

She couldn't deny that she still found him attractive; if anything the years away had matured him in a way that made him even more appealing.

But the memory of his disappearance from her life was still sharp enough to cut, to wound, and for once both her mind and heart are in the same place. Tim Gutterson may be the most attractive man she had ever met, but he was not to be trusted with the delicate machinery of her heart ever again.

"Hello, Earth to Val. You want to tell me where you've been keeping Mr. Sex hidden?"

Returning to the present, Valentine glanced over to see Jackie giving her one of those expectant looks, the woman's well-manicured finger pointing in the direction Tim had just disappeared.

The woman could have any man she wanted, and if Jackie wanted Tim than who was Valentine to argue? She would however have to remember to tell her friend about the complication that Sophie's parentage posed if Jackie was interested in more than flirting.

"I could hardly keep Tim hidden." Smiling, Valentine bent to grab her purse before following her friend out the door, "He works for the Marshals."

"Oooh," The dark eyes and sultry smile curved with interest, "I like a man who can use a gun."

Valentine sighed, "And here I was thinking you just had a thing for men in general."

Her friend snorted, "Well I can't say I'm picky either, darling. A girl has needs after all."

"And speaking of needs," Valentine gently tugged her cardigan into place, "Let's get going, I could really use a glass of wine."

"Wine?" Her friend grimaced, "Oh honey, we _need _to introduce you to bourbon."

* * *

"Please tell me you've at least slept with the man."

Valentine sighed over her wine glass, swirling the colorless liquid around before taking another long sip. They had gone to their favorite bar a little outside of Lexington proper, enjoying the speedy bartender and the mellow tunes that floated from the radio.

"Why are we talking about me again? I am still waiting to hear how you're getting on with that guy…what was his name again? Josh? Joe?"

"Jed."

Valentine laughed at the grin on her friend's face, "Yeah, that one. Last I heard you were finally conquering that castle."

"Oh and I did!" Eyes bright, Jackie leaned closer, taking another quick sip of her bourbon, her third glass in under an hour, "And he was _fabulous_."

"Fabulous enough to have a long term relationship built on mutual respect and monogamy?" Valentine asks, purposefully dredging up the exact wording the nuns had used in middle school.

Her words had the intended effect, and Jackie stares at her with such a bewildered deer-in-the-headlights look that Valentine actually bursts out in helpless laughter.

"Shit, Valentine. Don't _do _that. You actually scared me for a second, I thought you were serious!"

Valentine grinned, "You know I only ever talk like that to freak you out."

"I don't know." Jackie propped her chin on one hand, "You did sound pretty heartfelt at the last bit. And I know_ you_ believe in long term relationships and monogamy."

"Well I _do." _Sipping on her wine, Valentine smiled a little sadly, "But I can't say I have such a great track record."

"Which is all the more reason to get yourself out there!"

"Oh no," shaking her head Valentine pointed at her friend, "That is more your scene. I won't have any part in it. Besides I have Sophie, she's my top priority."

"But you also need a man."

"I don't _need _any man."

"Ok, my bad. Wouldn't you _like _having a companion of male gender? Maybe someone to help raise Sophie so you don't have to do it all on your own?"

The thought was one that has crossed Valentine's mind several times over the course of two years, especially in moments where she felt so very alone and Sophie proved to be almost too much to deal with. She loved her daughter, with all her heart, but she also missed the support, the emotional buoy of having a significant other.

Once upon a time she had wished for Tim, but that had faded a long while ago.

Jackie knew her well enough to parrot her thoughts a moment later.

"What about Tim? He's super attractive, has a regular job and you know him already. Even if you don't think he's daddy material he might be good for a fun romp."

The irony of the remark almost makes Valentine's bitterness over the subject disappear; almost, but not quite.

"Tim, huh?" She plays along, trying to quell the hurt as she takes another longer sip from her glass, "Hmm…that's a thought."

Valentine knows she's never been a good liar and this time is no different. Jackie notices it right away, "Why does it sound like you have already ridden that rodeo?"

"Rodeo?"

"You know…slept with him." Jackie clarifies as she leans closer eyes scanning the rest of the bar, "Done the dance with no pants. Made the beast with two backs."

Valentine snorts, "Colorful."

"Well, have you?" her friend asks. And this time Valentine has no reason not to tell her the absolute truth.

"I did one better. I had his baby."

All at once her friend's light hearted ribbing stops, her expression suddenly serious as she stills.

_"What?"_

Jackie's hand is on her arm, turning her until she can look the other woman in the eye. And though they have been friends for only a few months there is no missing the sudden anger in the woman's eye on her behalf.

"Tim is Sophie's father." Saying it aloud makes her realize that it's the first time she's openly acknowledged her daughter's paternal line.

"You're sure?"

"Absolutely," Nodding, Valentine tries to take another sip from her drink and finds it empty. And though it's tempting to order another, indeed it's been a long time since she's had anything more than a light beer, she still has to drive home.

_"Shit_."

"Yep, tell me about it."

"But today the two of you seemed so calm, relaxed. Well, at least _he _did."

Jackie blinks several times as she tries to get the measure of her friend, "What else aren't you telling me?"

"I'm not actually sure that he knows," Valentine switches to her water and takes a sip before clarifying, "I don't think he knows that Sophie is his."

"What?!" Jackie is looking at her strangely all over again, "What do you mean? You never _told him_?!"

The other woman just continues to quietly drink her water.

"_Valentine?!" _Trying to curb herself, Jackie grips the edge of the bar, "You never _told _the man that you got pregnant and had his baby?!"

"I _tried_." Strange, but Valentine doesn't know when she made the jump from amused to defensive, but she can hear it now in her voice, "From the moment I found out about it to the last month of pregnancy I _tried_."

Talking about it makes the memories come back in quick succession, rolls back the clock and the emotions she thought she had controlled.

"By the time I realized what was happening he had already been deployed again, and because of the nature of his job, I never got a call. We had been dating for some time but…"

She shrugs then, flinching at the pain of the memories, trying to forget the nights she had spent awake, desperate for him to call.

"But what about when he got back?"

Jackie doesn't know about her stint in Witness Protection, about the rules and concerns that had prevented her from doing just that. But more than that, she doesn't know about the utter hopelessness that followed Sophie's birth and her struggle to live one day at a time.

"By then I was too busy trying to just survive. We moved four times in one year, and I was _tired _of trying to contact a man who clearly wanted nothing to do with us."

"But Val, he's here now. Don't you think you should tell him?"

The hand on her arm is gentle, comforting. But so too is the question poignant, important.

_Tell him? _

_Given the chance to right this wrong, would she allow Tim to come into her daughter's life?_

She takes another sip of water.

"I'll think about it."

* * *

By the time Valentine retrieves Sophie from Leslie and gets her daughter tucked into bed it is nearly eleven. Early by some standards, Valentine's schedule of six o'clock mornings and ten o'clock bedtime means that she is exhausted. But as she tucks a wayward curl behind her daughter's little ear, watches her baby revel in contented sleep, the question from the bar continues to plague her.

She knows that if the roles were reversed she would want to be told, to have a chance to know her daughter. And Tim will be a good father if given the chance, she doesn't doubt it. Troubled though his childhood was, the man she knew was even keeled and steady, responsible.

And though part of her will probably always wonder why he chose not to contact her when she needed him most she knows that what she is doing now is perhaps a greater disservice.

She'll tell him on Wednesday, she resolves. She'll tell him and let him decide. And no matter what the outcome she will be free of guilt and the next move will be his.


	4. 04 - Summer Rain

AN: So here it is! As promised, this is the second teaser/frame chapter that provides a bit of insight into the past of Valentine & Tim while we wait to see how the fated coffee meeting will go.

This chapter is named for the song (of the same name "Summer Rain") by the lovely Hayley Westenra. I used this song specifically when writing the first part of the chapter (the first flashback) so feel free to give it a listen if you're really into music/reading pairings (kind of like wine with a meal right?).

Thanks again for all the wonderful feedback - you have all been so very insightful and kind.

Enjoy!

~Voi

* * *

_It's raining outside his window, a steady drizzle that has the air smelling of wet earth, of spring, though it's the middle of summer. And though the city lights make it impossible to disappear into total darkness, the rich golden light illuminates the quiet smile they share as they stand just inside the apartment, their backs against the door. _

_ Hand in hand, their mirrored expressions of amusement grow for only a moment before something shifts between them, the smiles shifting into something else entirely. And though neither one can say who begins it, there is no time between the first action and the next, the compulsion to continue so strong that it seems the wanting has always been there. _

_ And perhaps it has. _

_ He can't stop the way his hands card through her hair, the first time nor any other time after that initial touch, basking in the feathery softness as he follows the wave down to the delicate column of her neck. Warm, the skin of her throat is a lure he has no way of resisting, and as he bends down to brush his lips against her pulse-point he chuckles as he feels her heart thunder in her chest. _

_ And it's completely enlivening to know she feels the same way as him, to see her body come alive with the same intensity as his own. Breathing deeply, he ducks his head slightly as his nose brushes her own, lips seeking first the softness of her cheek and then the equally tender flesh of her mouth. _

_ Sensitive, there is no mistaking her surprised inhale as he traces the lines of her body with the very tips of his fingers. And she is lovely, so unlike how he imagined, more vulnerable, sweetly feminine._

_ "Tim."_

_ Her voice is husky as she says his name the first time, her fingers tracing the muscled contours of his back, and though he can't quite remember removing his shirt the thrill is there when he pulls her closer and feels the heat of her body against him. _

_There are a million different reasons why he shouldn't do this, why they should stop immediately, but there is no denying how well she fits in his arms, how her softness seems to fill the empty spaces in his heart until they come together in an all too perfect whole._

_ "Tim."_

_ She says his name again on a breathless whisper, her lips brushing the corner of his, her eyes sliding shut as his arms tighten and slide up to cup the back of her head. Vaguely he's aware of steering her to the couch, settling her on his lap as he leans forward to capture her lips with his own. _

_ Soft, sweet._

_ He can taste the inexperience on her and it's enough to bring out his protective instincts, to gentle his hands as they brush against the fevered skin on her back. But as she arches against him, eyes sliding open to lock onto his own, there is a sudden electric jolt of desire that threatens to undo his careful consideration._

_ "Valentine."_

It's raining when he jolts awake.

Neither a soft drizzle nor a torrential storm, rather it is as if the world has been covered in a shimmering silver curtain and in the moonlight even the shadows seem made of liquid metal. Soothing, the sound of it outside his window helps steady the frantic beat of his heart, eases his mind as he eases from dreams to reality.

He knows he was dreaming, indeed the last vestiges seem to hand in the air around him like shimmering banners of mist. But this time the dreams were not of chaos, war, and the stifling heat in far off Afghanistan. The heat of this dream was of a distinctly different variety, and Tim has the blankets off in an instant as he tries to ease the feverish state of his body.

Every nerve ending seems to have come alive at once, and with his mind buzzing in a jumbled mess it is a long while before he can do little more than stare at the ceiling.

It had been a while since he had recalled that particular memory, since he had thought about _her_. And as he thought about it now, the events of the past seemed so very far away, nearly a lifetime. He had been a different man then, a soldier but not the same. There had been a wide-eyed curiosity then, a wildness recklessness that had driven him. And though he is a soldier still, the past few years have worn away the curiosity, replaced it with a limited repertoire of feelings that leave him sarcastic at best, laconic at his worst.

By the time he's settled enough to get up for a drink the sun is just starting to peak over the horizon, the sky warming with rose colored clouds.

Exhaling slowly as he crosses from his bedroom to the small apartment kitchenette, Tim fumbles in one of the cupboards for a moment before retrieving a small glass. And though the first long drink of water helps to clear his head, he cannot quite shake the images that continue to linger.

It wasn't _just _a dream, and as he settles himself against the bland Formica countertop to grab the bottle of bourbon his hands tremor with uncharacteristic fervor.

"_Shit_."

Spilling a bit as he pours the rich amber liquid into the waiting glass, he considers the near empty state of the bottle with equal measures amusement and bitterness. He's never really considered how much he drinks, but the bottle seems a testament to an activity done in excess.

The first taste of his drink is lost as he downs it all in a single sip, and though the sweet bitterness is a familiar comfort, it takes another glass before he can actually taste it on his lips. It takes filing a third glass for him to feel relaxed enough to venture back to his bedroom.

He leaves the empty carafe perched on his bedside table.

And this time, perhaps because it is the last of the alcohol, he savors the bourbon one slow sip at a time.

Staring blankly out the window, the events of the past day slowly trickle back until he's once more at the diner, sitting across from Raylan, discussing the appearance of the one woman he thought had disappeared forever.

"_Tell me about Valentine and Sophie."_

_There is a clatter of silverware as Raylan pulls his napkin roll apart, dark eyes glancing at the young man with the steady hands. _

_ "I don't know anything about Sophie." Tim replies with a steadiness that masks the tension and confusion that has him excused from the day's work. _

_ Taking another sip of his coffee with a wince, the older marshal nods, seems to accept the limitation._

"_Then tell me about Valentine." _

"_The woman at the party?" Tim is nothing if not precise, "I know very little about her too."_

"_Bullshit. You recognized her the minute you laid eyes on her."_

"_I knew her several years ago; it's not quite the same thing."_

"_That so?"_

_Tim sighs, "You think you know Winona as well as you did before the divorce?"_

_There's a momentary silence between the two of them before Raylan grins, "So Valentine's like your version of Winona? And here I thought I was special."_

_The grin widens further as he stares the blond man down, "She's not your ex-wife is she?" _

_Tim snorts, takes another sip of his coffee before responding, "No, she's not."_

"_Well good. Because I really can't say that having an ex-wife makes things easier."_

"_No kidding." Tim's heard enough of the office scuttlebutt to know Raylan has been all over the map when it comes to Winona, "Bet having a kid with your ex-wife doesn't help either."_

_The older marshal laughs ruefully, "Yeah, you could say that."_

_And because Tim can't resist turning the conversation in his favor, and away from his own issues, he pursues the line of questioning further, "How is that going, anyway?"_

_The older marshal responds immediately, lips curving into a wide smile "Baby's almost ready to come out. Next month is the big one."_

"_You ready to be a dad?"_

_There's a shared moment of masculine panic before Raylan shrugs, "As well as I can be, I guess. Winona is though. She's already counting down the days, has her hospital bag all packed and everything."_

"_She say you have to do anything?"_

_Raylan laughs, "Nah just said that if I cared any I would show up on time." _

"_You going to ask for time off?" _

"_I'm not real sure yet what'll happen once the little squirt is here but I was thinking maybe I could talk to Art and…"_

_And that is when Raylan realizes he's been had. And as he whips his head around to look at the younger marshal, there's no missing the amusement on his face. _

"_Shit, Tim. Stop trying to change the subject. I'm trying to understand your relationship with Valentine."_

"_And here I was thinking you and I were going to chat about babies, shoes and how to make a good pecan pie." The younger marshal sighs, "What is there to know?"_

"_Come on buddy, just give me the facts." _

"_The facts?" Tim indicates the file on the table between them, but then sighs again when Raylan makes no move for it. _

"_Valentine Reed," coughing a little to clear his throat, Tim reads the basic profile aloud, "College educated, roughly twenty-six, twenty-seven years old. Originally from Seattle, but moved here from San Francisco. Has a young daughter and is not currently married. Parents are…" he scans to the bottom of the page, "Parents are deceased." _

"_So she's young, smart and from what I could see at the party a real nice looking lady." Raylan gives Tim an expectant look, "How do you know her, Tim?"_

_There's a long pause and though Tim shifts a little in his seat he does eventually answer._

"_She was eighteen the first time we met. Her older brother was a friend of mine and he invited me along when we were home around the holidays."_

"_Eighteen?" Raylan leaned back, "Wow, talk about knowing someone for a while."_

"_You could say that." Tim stirred his coffee for a moment before continuing._

"_It was good for a few years, Ben and I would come over for the holidays and it was all very lighthearted, at least in retrospect."_

"_What about Valentine?"_

"_When she left for college we kept in contact. Email mostly." And because he can't quite hide his smile, Tim looks out the window, "Ben had no idea what was going on until she showed up at base one day and asked for me." _

"_You never told him?" Raylan laughs, "I bet he was pissed."_

_Tim's grin is a self-satisfied one, "Oh yeah. Angry as hell with me for maybe a _day_, but then he said that at least he knew where I lived, said that if I ever broke her heart at least I'd be close at hand – easier for him to break my legs." _

_But no sooner had he said those words when his smile faded, "Ben died sometime during my final stint with the Rangers."_

_Unconsciously Tim rubbed at the mark on his wrist, but continued on, "Valentine and I got closer after that, loss tends to drive people together that way."_

"_So you were close."_

"_Yeah."_

"_But what happened after…?"_

_Tim looked at Raylan out of the corner of his eye, "You mean, why are we strangers now?"_

_Tim shrugged,._

"_Tim?"_

"_I don't know. My last tour just…" He shrugged again but this time couldn't quite meet Raylan's gaze, "I never heard from her again."_

Tim returns to the present a split second before his morning alarm goes off, the sharp noise cutting the otherwise peaceful morning silence. Tuesday has only just arrived, and with Wednesday a good twenty-four hours away he still had one more day of waiting, of wondering.

He already knows it will feel like an eternity. But maybe that's exactly what he needs.

Without a word, without another thought, Tim begins his day, listening to the rain as it continues to fall outside his window.


	5. 05 - Truth Telling (Part 01)

AN: And here it is! It actually turned out to be longer than I expected, so there will be a Part 2 happening, but I hope you enjoy this chapter.

You have all been fabulous thus far and I wanted to say thanks again for your continued support! It means a lot!

Let me know what you think, feedback in any form is always welcome!

Also - I made a quick cover for this fic which you can see here. It's been a while since I've used Photoshop but overall I like how it turned out.

Look up 'Kentucky Summer' + 'Justified' on DeviantArt (it should be under my same user 'voidreamer')

~Voi

* * *

Wednesday dawned early, and Valentine rose with the sunshine, as early as she had ever woken. It was nerves probably, an anxiousness that twisted her stomach until she felt sick. The long shower spent under scalding water did little in the way of helping and by the time she had changed into a light summer dress she had worked herself into a trembling mess.

Up until the last few hours of the evening she had been resolute in her decision, firm minded and steady. But with the morning came a whole host of concerns, of scenarios each more worrisome than that last.

She wasn't sure she was strong enough, brave enough to deal with Tim's anger, or the quiet brooding that often bellied his more turbulent emotions. But most of all, she was not sure she could deal with the very real possibility that by telling him the truth she would hurt him.

That thought in particular had made her equal parts heart-sick and defensive. Goodness knew she had done everything she could at the time.

"Mama?"

Sophie's high pitched chirp diverted Valentine's attention, drew her praise. A talkative child by nature, Sophie was unique in that though she was fully capable of stringing several words together she preferred babbling instead of forming coherent sentences. Perhaps because it was faster, or maybe because she had too much to say for the small vocabulary she had, Valentine had taken great pains to expand her daughter's vocabulary by regular story time.

And when Sophie did make the effort, to use proper words instead of melodic little bits of noise, Val was quick to respond and encourage the behavior with attentiveness and compliments.

"Good morning my sweet girl."

Valentine appeared in the nursery with a smile, lips stretching further as her daughter returned the gesture with a bright grin of her own.

"Hello, my little Peach." Valentine pressed a soft kiss into her daughter's hair before she made her way to the large closet where the pint-sized pieces of clothing were awaiting her attention. A mere sampling of what had once been a massive assortment of lace, ruffles and fluffy pastels, Sophie had been growing so quickly that it seemed a little shopping trip would soon be required.

"These are cute, right?"

Turning around to address her daughter, Valentine held both options up, and smiled at the simple pleasure of spending time on small decisions without the rush of work or other activities.

At least for now the worries about Tim would have to take a back seat to the crucial question; shorts or dress, pink or purple?

She knew that eventually they both would have to make harder decisions, but for now, this suited them both.

"Well, Peach? What do you think?"

Sophie was only too happy to point at them both, more entertained by her mother's good mood than the clothes themselves. Still, Valentine dutifully went with her daughter's 'first' choice, and selected a little mint-green ribbon-festooned shirt to go with the equally petit pair of shorts. In the end both mother and daughter were satisfied, and after a little more fussing with hair clips and a pair of baby-sized sandals they made their way to the kitchen for breakfast.

But no sooner had Sophie settled into her chair when she realized that something important was missing.

"Peep!"

Sophie bleated the word furtively as she pointed back to her room, baby face pinched with worry. But Valentine had long since learned of her daughter's particular obsession, and she was already on her way back to the nursery where the 'peep' in question was waiting on the rocking chair.

Bo-peep and her sheep, the two dolls were Sophie's absolute favorite and went with her _everywhere_. Washed and repaired more times than any other toy, Valentine had been trying to wean her daughter off of them but it was still a work in progress.

"Here you go, love. Bo-peep and her sheep."

"Peep! Sheep!"

Sophie's use of words to demand both dolls was a testament to her deep seated love of all things white and fleecy. And though she accepted both stuffed toys with enthusiasm, Sophie was sure to purse her lips and make a loud smacking noise to get her mother's attention.

"Kiss!"

And just like that Sophie won over her mother all over again, giggling happily as Valentine planted a large kiss on her cheek and went about making them both breakfast.

But while working on the makings of scrambled eggs and toast, Valentine mentally drifted back to the problem that had replaced her earlier ones. She had decided that she would tell Tim about Sophie, of that there was no doubt. But should she bring her daughter along to the meeting?

Valentine looked at her daughter and paused, contemplating as she whisked the eggs and cranked up the heat under the frying pan. It was a complex situation to begin with, this meeting, but would having her daughter there help or hinder the situation?

Pouring herself a requisite cup of coffee, Val sighed softly as she crossed the room to grab the sugar and creamer. It seemed that the best course of action would be to leave Sophie with the Mullen's, it would make things less complicated that way. But before she made any decisions she wanted to talk to someone; she wanted to talk to Leslie.

* * *

Someone was looking for a promotion, or at least some sort of favor.

Looking over the impressive spread of doughnuts and coffee, Art Mullen patted his stomach as he reminded himself to choose carefully. It was tougher to select just one when the purveyor of the morning goods had been very careful in selecting a wide variety, an assortment of what seemed to be all of Art's favorites.

Clearly Tim paid more attention than most; a dangerous quality in an armed man, an asset in a US Marshal. Art wondered if the breakfast foods had something to do with that new neighbor Leslie was forever talking about. Otherwise these delicious treats could only mean one thing.

He looked over at his youngest marshal, "You do something stupid I don't know about?"

"You mean besides following Raylan back to Harlan County on one of his many joy-rides down memory lane?" Tim glanced up from the report he was working on, "No, not really."

"So these doughnuts…" Art waved a hand over the smooth frosting and sprinkles, "Are because you were feeling friendly?"

"I woke up early and the little shack by my apartment was open." Tim shrugged, "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"And that's why you're my favorite."

The younger marshal snorted, as he flipped though the file at his desk, "We both know Rachel is your favorite. Hell, she's _my _favorite. No need to lie, Art."

"Well I do appreciate it, Tim."

Tim grinned, "That's good enough for me, boss."

Art's phone rang a moment later, summoning him to his desk. And though the chief had yet to actually select his morning's indulgence, he promised himself he would be back the moment the call was over. There was no way he was missing out.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Love." Leslie's voice was warm but businesslike as she spoke across the distance, "I need to talk to you about Deputy Gutterson…"

* * *

"So, news around the office is that you have a rather intriguing lady friend."

Work had just finished but Tim was in the middle of dropping Rachel off at her place since her car was in for maintenance. And though Rachel was nothing if not a professional, now that she was off the clock there was nothing stopping her from playfully ribbing the department's most junior marshal.

Tim glanced at Rachel from the corner of his eye, "Since when do you listen to office gossip?"

"I always do." The response was both amused and slightly tart as was Rachel's habit.

"Whether or not I talk about it is the sticking point." His companion smiled, "She must really be something though. All the other marshals have been wagging their tongues talking about her, something about how she looks good in shorts and that her daughter is cute as a button."

"Yeah well, Val's more than a pair of shorts," Tim scowled at the road in front of him, "Those assholes better keep their comments to themselves."

"Why Deputy Marshal Gutterson, I do believe you're jealous…and distracted." She second the second part with an edge, a warning.

"Yeah?" Tim glanced at the clock and frowned as it showed only half past four.

"Mmhmm…that's the third time you've looked at the clock since we started driving. And you _never _check the clock."

The comment made him wince, "That bad huh?"

"Oh I don't mind it now," Rachel grinned as she caught his eye in the overhead mirror, "But you better get your thoughts all straightened out before we go out in the field, Tim."

"Awww come on Rachel, be nice." He slowed to a stop outside her building, "No need to go for the vitals."

The woman sighed, shaking her head as she grabbed her bag from the car, "First Raylan, now you. I think its sweet the both of you are acting like love-sick puppies. But for heaven's sake, use your brains once in a while ok? I don't want to see either of you moping around afterwards."

"No?"

"It's almost worse than whatever _this _is."

Rachel sighed as she swung the door closed, "Thanks again for the ride, Tim."

"Anytime." Tim grinned, as he rolled the windows all the way down, "Hey, you still need that ride in the morning?"

Rachel smiled back, "No I got Raylan to do pick-up. Let _that _man get up early for once."

Tim chuckled, "And that's why you're my favorite."

The female marshal cocked one hip as she grinned, "And don't you forget it."

* * *

Valentine had just gotten Sophie settled in her seat when Tim appeared at the entrance of the coffee shop, tall frame cutting a striking figure as the low sun cast him in back light. Hair tussled from a long day dealing with all sorts of trouble; he looked to be in a good mood despite having come from work.

She could tell he was scanning the small shop, looking for her, but with her heart beating a mile a minute every additional second of waiting was torture. Taking matters into her own hands, she raised one elegant hand and waved him down.

Hands tucked into his pockets as was his custom, he crossed the room with the all too familiar gait and easy air of confidence. The fact that he smiled as he approached only made her heart thunder all the more loudly in her ears.

"Valentine."

The low drawl was music to her ears, and Valentine smiled, "Hello, Tim. You want to put your stuff down and grab a drink?"

She motioned to the barista and the case stuffed full with all sorts of pastries and sandwiches.

"Hmm?" He glanced at the tall glass of iced coffee sitting on the table before it dawned on him, "Yeah, be back in a bit."

The moment he was gone, Sophie began babbling beside her, large blue eyes following the handsome marshal. Valentine didn't doubt that her daughter recognized him from the party, but it was amusing to watch as Sophie continued to follower Tim with her eyes, little arms waving excitedly when he returned to the table, drink in hand.

"Sophie, this is Tim." Speaking carefully, Valentine introduced her daughter to the man who had had a hand in bringing her into existence. And though she doubted Sophie could truly appreciate the value of the moment, her daughter seemed intrigued with Tim's presence all the same.

"Tim, I know you've met before but this is Sophie."

And when her daughter, _their _daughter shook the little doll in her hand, Valentine amended her introduction to include the trusted companion, "This is Sophie and Bo-peep."

"Peep!"

Looking immensely pleased with her mother, Sophie smiled sunnily and waved back at Tim with her other hand, small starfish hands opening and closing with careful articulation. Indeed, she seemed to be working very hard for even her face scrunched with the force of her concentration.

"Hello Sophie."

It was impossible not to be charmed by the round baby face and huge blue eyes, and Tim settled down in his chair with a small grin on his lips, "She looks just like you."

Valentine would have smiled if she could have dredged up the amusement, instead his comment merely left her heart sore. To her Sophie had always looked to be a spitting image of Tim, with his dark blue eyes and blond-brown hair. She wondered if Tim would see himself in her features after she told him the truth.

"She seems to be a real charmer too." Tim glanced at her, and Valentine managed a slight smile just in time.

"Yeah, and she knows it too. She'll have you wrapped around her finger in no time."

But no sooner had she spoken when Sophie whimpered and with her small sound of distress grabbed the attention of both her parents.

"Sophie?"

Valentine gently smoothed a finger along her daughter's cheek, "What's wrong sweetheart?"

"Peep Sheep!"

Little hand opening and closing on nothing but air, Sophie used her Bo-peep doll to illustrate what was missing.

"Sheep!"

Voice tight with panic, Sophie squirmed in her chair, curly hair bouncing as she swiveled her head one way and then the other. And though her small hand continued to move as she went about looking for the missing doll there was no ready solution.

"Sheep!"

Valentine could hear it in her daughter's voice that she was working herself up, making herself increasingly more upset. And as the little girl had started to take large gulping breaths Valentine grabbed the large baby bag she had brought along and rifled through it, looking for the missing sheep-doll.

"I take it you know what 'Peep Sheep' means?" Tim looked at the little girl with a bemused look, running his hand through his hair. His dry humor cut the tension of the moment and despite the stress of hearing her daughter's continued unhappiness Valentine laughed a little, "Yeah. It's one of the advantages of being a parent, you start to understand baby-speak."

"So then this 'peep sheep'…" Tim looked at the doll in Sophie's hand, "Her Bo-peep doll has a matching Sheep doll doesn't it?"

Valentine grinned, "Look at you, picking it up so fast, a natural for sure."

Tim sighed, "Well I am a professional."

And though his comment had enough dry humor and sarcasm to make her grin curl all the wider, Valentine was sure to address her daughter's increasing concern.

"Sophie?"

Valentine felt her daughter's distress as if it were her own, and she soothed the mop of curly hair as she spoke in slow soothing tones, "Mommy is going to check the car, ok?"

She looked up to where Tim was seated, "You don't mind looking after her for five minutes on your own, do you?"

Tim shook his head, "I think I can manage."

Valentine nodded, "Ok, I'll be back soon."

And then she was off, leaving Tim in the company of one well-worn Bo-peep and an unhappy Sophie.

The moment Valentine left for the car Tim could sense trouble brewing, could almost see the gears in Sophie's head shift into overdrive as she watched her mother leave.

"Mama?"

Instead of growing increasingly more shrill as she had when demanding her doll Sophie spoke her words in a hushed whisper. Large eyes blinking rapidly, she followed her mother until she disappeared out the door, and then it happened.

Lips trembling, Sophie turned her big blue eyes on Tim with a broken-hearted whimper.

"Mama?"

She was looking to Tim for an answer, a solution. But it took just one long moment between them to confirm what they both knew. Tim had absolutely no experience in dealing with children, at least, not of the child-age variety. Raylan Givens might have required more minding than the average two-year old, but at least Tim knew how the man worked.

But as Sophie buried her glum little face in her arms, Tim knew he had to at least try to salvage the situation.

"Hey, now Sophie, don't be like that." Sighing, the marshal gently rubbed her back "Your mama's going to be back in just a second."

His attempts at consolation fell on deaf ears as Sophie continued to sulk, pudgy baby arms curling tighter as she cushioned the small face that was still stubbornly pressed to the table.

"Come on sweetheart, no need to be upset. You have Bo-peep don't you?"

And whether he intended it or not, his comment was enough to peak Sophie's attention; one large blue eye peered at him over the curve of her arm.

"Peep?"

Muted thought it was, Tim grinned at his success, at her, pleased that she had come out of her pout at least that much.

"Yeah, you have Bo-peep. Why don't you tell me about her?" And then, when it looked like Sophie might try and hide her face again Tim suggested wildly, "Or why don't I tell you about Bo-peep instead?"

He didn't know the first thing about the doll, or the character, but if it gave him the advantage he would just have to keep on his toes and make up a story as needed.

"Come on, sweetheart?" His drawl soften as she continued to watch him, "What do you think? Want me to tell you a story?"

And when she finally raised both her arms towards him he was quick to pick her up, settling her on his lap as rubbed her back again and tried to coax her back to normalcy. And when at last she curled into his chest he took that as a good sign.

"Hey…"

Valentine knew she had been gone for only five minutes, but it seemed things had changed quite significantly in the time she was away. And as she approached the table she was amused to find Sophie sitting on Tim's lap, watching the man move the doll in his hands as he impersonated the small shepherdess on some make-believe quest. And though his attempts at sounding female were _awful,_ Sophie was completely enthralled and watched the doll with huge eyes, her little mouth stuck open as she absorbed his words.

"Oh no! Where has my little sheep gone?"

Watching Sophie as he said the words, Tim shook the little doll as he expressed Bo-peep's distress, "Who will help me?"

Instead of answering, Sophie curled up against his chest, small hand grabbing the dark blue shirt as she anchored herself in the warm curve of his arm. And though she had never seen him act particularly paternal before, the image of him in that seat, holding Sophie close was one she would treasure forever.

It also drove home her intention to tell him the truth.

"I'm back."

Holding out the little sheep doll to her daughter, Valentine smiled in amusement as her daughter snuggled the doll close and then proceeded to fall asleep, eyelids drooped lower and lower over her deep blue eyes. Curled up where she was, Valentine couldn't blame her.

"She's was probably tired, that was why she was whining, poor thing."

Sighing as she sat down again, she looked up to see Tim's face lined with concern.

"You've got to take her home?"

"Eventually." Valentine looked down at her daughter with a soft smile, "She seems pretty comfortable with you right now. If you don't mind holding her we can actually talk a bit before we have to go."

Her words seemed to ease his concern, and he settled against the back of his chair with a nod.

"So, how have you been?" Hands free and finally with enough time to talk properly Valentine smiled as she took a sip of her coffee, "Work seems to be going well."

He nodded slowly, "Yeah, it's been good being back in the states."

"How long have you been in Kentucky?"

She didn't mean for the question to be as probing as it sounded, but time had left Valentine with her own share of hurts, of questions that needed answering.

"Been here for almost two years." He looked at her, "What are _you _doing here, Val?"

"The west coast just wasn't the same after Sophie was born." Valentine didn't mention the fact it had been unbearable to stay there when every shop, every street, every rain-soaked night reminded her of him.

"You settle in ok?"

"Yeah," A smile lit her face, "Leslie was a big help with looking after Sophie on weekdays, and she was the first one to drive me around and point out all the important buildings around Lexington."

"Leslie Mullen?" Tim looked amused, "My boss's wife? That explains why you were at that party."

"I didn't know she was your boss's wife at the time. She was just my neighbor, and an extraordinarily kind person. I don't know if we could have settled in as well as we did without her."

"So you moved here on your own?" There was a flicker of something, anger perhaps, across his face as he glanced down at her left hand.

She nodded.

"What about Sophie's father?" Tim leaned forward, keeping their baby cradled to his chest, "Did something happen to him?"

Valentine tried but couldn't quite fake a smile, "What makes you say that?"

"I've known you a long time, Val." He paused, "You wouldn't have had a baby unless you thought you had something special with the guy." His voice was rough as he looked at her, "Did something happen to him?"

For a split second Valentine forgot who she was talking to, forgot that Tim was both a marshal and the father of her child. Two years of living under witness protection had made her rely on a fiction that she had used so many times it had become second nature.

Once upon a time she'd had a fiancé, military of course. He had died before they could get married, so now she had a baby and was alone.

It was a good story, convincing, and it had felt like the truth. Indeed it had _been _the truth for nearly two years because Valentine had actually believed Tim had died. It was only when she had seen him in Lexington that the sense of betrayal and hurt had left her feeling abandoned.

"He…"

It would be easy, all _too _easy to lie, or perhaps not say anything at all. But she had made a promise, and she swallowed down her nerves to finally start the conversation she had mentally recited a thousand times before.

"There's something I need to tell you."

"Ok," he nodded slowly, patiently, arms still wrapped carefully around Sophie.

"I…I don't know how to put this." Valentine faltered, wringing her hands and struggling to look him in the eye, "But Sophie's father…"

He nodded and the expression his face made her heart ache, "Just say it, Val, it'll be ok."

So calm, so sure of himself, of her. She took one last breath, shored herself up for whatever might come and said the words that had been on her mind since she had ran into him at that party.

"Tim, Sophie is _your_ daughter."

And for a breathless eternity Tim sat still, totally, completely unmoving. She could tell her was processing the information, that he was reassessing everything he had come to know about her, about Sophie.

He took a single shuddering breath, "Say that again."

Eyes wide and unblinking as he stared at her, turned to look at the little girl in his arms, at the curls that were the exact same shade as his.

"I got pregnant before you left last time." Valentine's chest ached as she watched him, the confusion and bewildered look in the dark blue of his eyes, the undeniably gentle way he touched a fingertip to the baby's cheek.

"Sophie is your…" she swallowed, "She is _our _baby, our daughter."


End file.
